Because it's difficult to figure out what kind of play "Shakespeare's Will" wants to be, it's also difficult to ascertain how well it does what it sets out to do.

Canadian writer Vern Thiessen is clear in his author's notes that his one-woman play about the life and times of Shakespeare's wife Anne Hathaway is not necessarily meant to be a biography, nor is it intended to shed new light or insights on the western world's best-known playwright. Admittedly playing fast and loose with history, Thiessen says his goal is to "explore the journey of a woman who faces adversity, rises above it and ultimately rekindles faith in herself." This is hardly helpful, though, as such a description could apply to anything from "Gone with the Wind" to "Pippi Longstocking."

In its simplest reading, the 70-minute "Shakespeare's Will" could be construed as an imagined kiss-and-tell memoir of an open marriage in Elizabethan England. Set on the afternoon of The Bard's funeral, the play has Hathaway reminiscing -- sometimes fondly, sometimes furiously -- about her married life, while trying to decide whether or not to untie and read her husband's will.

Along the way, we learn that the couple married hastily after Anne became pregnant. We also learn that Anne thinks her sister-in-law Joan is a money-grubbing rhymes-with-witch. That her father despised Will, his family and his chosen profession. That Anne enjoys the company of "lots and lots of men" and freely sampled the charms of Stratford's studs whilst Bill was away.

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And that her husband -- described, ironically, as "a man of few words" -- had a male lover in London.

The first of those above-mentioned factoids is historically true; the remainder are speculation on the playwright's part that probably are intended to be provocative but make "Shakespeare's Will" come off as a 16th century version of "The Jerry Springer Show."

And for all the potential for titillation in the script, the Jungle Theater production is an exercise in somnolence. Bain Boehlke's static staging traps actress Cathy Fuller on a lovely set representing a room in the Shakespeare home -- desk, chair, candles, quill -- and offers her few options for animating what is already a story long on words and short on action.

Fuller, for her part, brings a rich, resonant voice and the right bearing to the role -- formal, wise and a little smart-alecky. But she, too, often seems trapped in the role. When, for instance, she introduces other characters -- Shakespeare, his sister, the family servants -- she doesn't create them (as is often the case in single-actor productions) so much as she quotes them.

Too, Fuller's Anne works in a narrow emotional band, never really seizing the lusty joy of an illicit affair or articulating the unspeakable horror of losing a child. These tendencies give the show a lulling sense of homogeneity, and while Fuller's performance is a capable one, it's hardly the stuff of a bravura turn.

What you get out of "Shakespeare's Will" is likely to depend on what you expect. Since the show's articulation of its objectives and ambitions is nebulous -- and since its execution also eschews strong choices -- it's all too easy to walk out of the theater with a shrug.